| abstract
| - Flood: Operative, alarms are going off at the hideout where we were storing the biological interface program. I see no evidence of a break-in on the monitors, so I have no idea what the problem could be, but if something happens to that program, heads are going to roll. Get over there and make sure that everything's all right. Operator: I'm not reading anything that looks like hostile activity. The Exiles guarding the place look to be okay. Operator: So nobody has a clue. Off to our usual good start... Operator: Goals for this area are complete. Find the nearest exit quickly! Flood: Silver is supposed to have been heading up our research on the interface program, operative, so if you're at your wit's end, I suggest asking him about it. I don't expect that he knows anything useful--his experiments so far have been hideous misuses of resources--but I find it better in the long run to follow the proper steps before stretching someone's throat. Operator: Silver should be in there, researching away. Silver: I'm not surprised. I found that the program's unique code allows it to circumvent security routines with remarkable facility. It was only a matter of time before it found a way to get free. Where is it now? Containment isn't my job, bloodbag. I suppose it's probably circulating around inside your network. Operator: He could have said something about this earlier! Operator: Goals for this area are complete. Find the nearest exit quickly! Silver: You're wasting your neurokinetic energy producing sounds from your vocal chords here, human. Leave me to my research. Flood: I don't have time to give the proper display of scorn for Silver's slipshod work, operative; someone's got to get things done around here... Ahah. Commando unit J72 is reporting anomalous behavior on their terminals. Operator: I'm not sure what's going on in there. It looks like some of their machines are malfunctioning.
* Commando: Thank goodness you're here, sir! Our computers have been malfunctioning--we were afraid we'd have to be reformat!
* Commando: Seargent! We just lost Private Axelrod!
* Commando: Private!
* Commando: It was some sort of feedback from the machine, sir! The private took it full force! Operator: Something weird's going on there, all right. It looks like an independent program of some kind is moving from machine to machine. Operator: Dang, whatever it is just moved on again. Well, at least the computers there seem to be clear now. Flood: Yes, of course that was the program. What else would it have been? All of our poltergeists are currently in for upgrades. Oh, now this is lovely: it looks like a Machine patrol has picked up on similar computer problems at another of our hideouts. More interference from them is the last thing we need. Go see to this, {redpill_name}! -b Operator: Got some Machine programs in there, all right, and some funky readouts from the computers inside. Operator: It's still jumping around. This is crazy. Operator: Phew. That's all the Machines. Operator: Damn, it moved again! Operator: Is that... Is that it? It looks like it's staying put for now. Flood: Fah. The program is obviously childish, and in need of a good spanking. I'm going to order the firewalls on the thing doubled, and we'll cycle them at irregular intervals. That should keep it in its place. If Silver can't come up with something useful from it before the Machines close in, I'm quite prepared to use his body as a shield. [Mission completed]
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